


Free Outdoors Rotting Indoors

by Td03



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game), The Walking Dead: Road To Survival (Video Game), This War of Mine (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carl-centric, Disney References, F/M, The Lion King References, The kids' side of The Walking Dead, This War of Mine (video game) references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Td03/pseuds/Td03
Summary: Carl doesn't draw with crayons or play with balls cluelessly while adults do all the work. There are video games and movies and Internet. Kids can learn. Adults were kids once and right now everyone is helpless and lost so stop treating us like we're liabilities!





	Free Outdoors Rotting Indoors

**Author's Note:**

> Searching for a long survival type fiction with Carl as the lead character. Hmm... Rick/Daryl. Rickyl. Rick/Michonne. Daryl/Beth. Daryl/Carol. Rick/Carl (the fuck). Rick/Daryl/Merle. Rick/Negan. Rick - WHY IS EVERYTHING SEXUALIZED?! I want The Walking Dead not The Romance That Happens In An Apocalyptic Zombie World In Which There Are Barely Any Scavenging Happening!
> 
> I found one where Daryl is a mute, the fic begins with Rick waking up from the coma. It was awesome at the first few chapters until it started paying too much attention to the romance and lost me. Some of the crossover with Harry Potter has some good survival tips, but it kind of defeats the purpose of driving the characters in desperation. Harry, as OP as he was portrayed in the crossovers, was truly over powered against them due to his oh you know, magic. He can use warming charms, he has unlimited space in his bags, he has anti-theft charms, he can blow up the undead herd if he wants to, he has anti-hangover potions and other magical medicines to cure people - it's unrelatable and makes me think the only way we can reach a happy ending in such a world is if we have a Harry Potter, and that's depressing.
> 
> I'm not sure if I will update this. I wrote this out of anger and frustration. Currently, there are no Walking Dead fiction that got me re-reading to keep me attached to the fandom. When I do find some (please tell me the fics (and their authors) that goes more-along the lines of surviving and trying to live in an apocalyptic world and not finding sexual love in an apocalyptic world in the comments below~) it would be my anchor to keep going on with this fic. It currently has no long list of bullet points that consisted of how I'll go from A to Z but if I do continue, it would be a Major Canon Divergences like my other fics. I try to not follow canon.
> 
> Fanfiction is a world where we can improve the canon work to our images and start world-building the universe.
> 
> Tags: Carl-centric (I'm planning for this to be like the Kids-centric fic. A survival fic that focuses on Carl, Sophia, Clementine, Lizzie & Mica, and perhaps another boy that mayyyy or may not be Tsunayoshi Sawada :P). An OC that serves as Carl's friend in Before Everything Goes to Shite who may or may not appear later. The Lion King references. Correction, Disney references. This War of Mine references (please pretend it's a PC-multiplayer game).

His attempts to talk to the cop driving him home were stilted at best, so Carl turned to his phone.

_Yo Carl~ If it's convenient, will you come to my house? I got this new V game I wanna play with ya! 14 minutes ago_

It was a nice tech. He's pretty sure Mom doesn't like it that Carl spends a lot of time with his phone, lamenting that Carl doesn't read books a lot anymore. As if the internet isn't way more informative than books which are incomplete and expensive.

Hmm. That 97% nagged him. Don't suppose a 'sir, do you have a power bank I could borrow' would be polite?

_Ping._

_If inconvenient, please come anyway. 2 seconds ago_

That sarcastic—

After sending his reply, the police radio crackled. "We have a code 98 at Road Orange 27. I repeat, code 10-98 at Road Orange 27. All units."

"A jail break?!" Carl's shout startled the cop driving the car.

"You know the codes? Wait, nevermind. Rick's spawn. Look, kid, it's only a corner road to your friend's house, I'm dropping you off here. That good?"

"Okay," Carl opened the door and grabbed his backpack and skateboard, and remembered his manners when his foot stepped onto the road. "Thank you, Officer Roman."

The cop grunted and turned the car around seconds later. Carl boosted the skateboard and only had to avoid a plastic cup on his way to Zurra's. She greeted him with a silly grin and a horrid green tee shirt.

"Your parents home?" He disliked talking with adults. All they say is questions about what school he went and what grades he has as if those matter.

"Nah. Working." They passed by her living room—hmm, messy—and went upstairs. The only rooms on the floor above is Zurra's bedroom and bathroom, so a part of the stairs was claimed by her Simba and Scar and Mufasa and Nala figures glued in to tell everyone that she believes The Lion King 1994 is the best.

"You still think The Lion King is the best?"

"Yup. And it will never change so stop asking that every time you visit."

He loved Hercules 1997 for years before realizing that it was kind of  _eh_. The water level difference from one scene to the next could be forgiven since it was  _Hades_ ' lair but there were just so many problems he realized later. Wonder when Zurra will ever regret sticking The Lion King figures in hot glue.

"Eh, I don't know. You seem pretty obsessed with that princess with the Stockholm Syndrome these past few weeks."

His friend turned a one-eighty and shushed him.

"Okay, dude. First of all, Stockholm Syndrome is not a diagnosable mental illness, it belongs more in the category of debunked pseudo science and is a contested illness, more like—"

 _Riiight_. Carl was listening to her ensuing rant with half an ear by now. Yeah, she'd go on a tangent, and spout these things almost non-stop. And while the boy could acknowledge she's smart with these things, she's also a girl who genuinely believes stars are fireflies that got stuck on the sky which she always calls as a 'big bluish flat thing' like Timon.

"—Lastly, she stayed in the castle because she promised herself for her dad's freedom so it wasn't a kidnapper slash victim shit."

"Swear word."

"Scheiße."

Carl didn't know what that means but he's positive it's a dirty word.

"It's german for f—"

"I don't want to know. Come on," he entered her room and dumped his stuff at the corner familiarly. "So what's the game about?"

"Survival."

Carl rolled his eyes at her. "It's always survival games you."

"Don't use the word 'always'," Zurra picked up two things in her hands, turning off the TV with the remote in one hand and throwing the crackers and cheese at Carl with the other. "That is not true."

"Fine, but majority is. Can't it be about war?" The snack crunched under his teeth. Carl was careful not to make a mess on her bed.

"I hit the jackpot then~ My best friend, this one's both."

The game surprised Carl. It's not from the soldiers' side who have the guns and ammo and stuff, an enemy to fought and territories to cease – it's from the civilians' side. Rebels were taking over the city and holding many civilians hostage, many killing said hostages. Military shelled the city and set up outposts to clean out the rebels and save the civilians. Instead of the usual route in which the game had gamers play the soldiers to fight against the enemy, this one had them play as the civilians who had their homes shelled and normal lives destroyed. So they're forced to find shelters and scavenge places for food and stuff through the night avoiding other scavengers, rebels, and soldiers.

They can kill if they want to, no surprise. What's surprising is that if they kill without a good reason like saving other people, there are moral penalties and the characters' actually get sad.

It's kind of hard to survive the game with the way their avatars get sad over killing bad guys or stealing for supplies.

"Hey, Carl?" Zurra let her avatar stand idly while Carl debated whether he should pick up the medicine or the broken shotgun, forced to choose due to limited inventory. "I think the military shelling the town to get rid of the rebels killed more civilians than the rebels killing the civilians."

"Huh? I thought the military is on our avatars' side."

"But didn't you hear that?" Zurra gestured at her avatar which was peeking through the door to eavesdrop on the soldier's conversation with a woman caught pilfering through the garbage cans. "'I'll give you some food if you give me something in return he he' brrrr. It sounds kind of... creepy."

Carl's avatar continued picking through the piles of garbage to loot. "Isn't that just a trade? What's creepy about that?"

The woman in the game started pleading to be let go of but the soldier exploded into expletives and started threatening her for being a prude and demanding. "What's a prude?" Zurra asked the boy who reads dictionaries as a hobby.

"Someone who is easily shocked with whatevers related to sex."

"Hmm," she pretended to understand what sex was. All she knew is that it was one of those Adult Stuff and so belongs to the category of Things She Is Not Interested In. "That soldier's getting violent against a civilian. I really don't think the military is on our side."

"I want to help her." Carl checked his inventory and had his avatar equip up the knife, while his real hand picked up another cracker and dipped it in the cheese. "I'll sneak in and if I failed to surprise him, take the shot."

"Classic. Don't worry~ I got your back."

Except. Well. It wasn't classic.

It went smooth but it was too little too late. Or, maybe Carl messed up. Or maybe the game purposefully had the soldier shoot the woman no matter what the gamers do and the entire 'rescue mission' became moot.

"Eh," Zurra shrugged and ate another cracker.

"Err, at least we can loot them," Carl's avatar searched the bodies and while the woman didn't have anything of worth, the soldier yielded him an assault rifle, sixteen ammo, a military vest and helmet. "Sweet!" His inventory was full but good thing he had Zurra whose character still have empty slots for them.

"I'm full. Let's go back to the shelter."

They ended the night and the screen went black. The next day in the game, Carls' avatar was Broken, while Zurra's was Depressed.

"Is there a way to make them happy here? They're moving slowly."

"Mine's Wounded but we have no bandages to treat it."

"We'll find it some place we haven't visited tonight." Carl and Zurra did the day rituals: check the radio they fixed for news, cook two meals, see if they can make more saws or lockpicks, check the mouse trap and garden, make more roll-up cigarettes for their avatars' addictions, Carl's avatar sitting on a chair to play the guitar to cheer them up and Zurra's avatar sitting on the armchair to read books to forget about the war.

They ended the day and the map of the city appeared. Zurra checked the locations available. Some were blocked Due to Fighting. The game let them see what the locations will yield and she picked one that had Lots of Meds. It was in a Quiet House. Based on the description, it was a home that miraculously escaped the shelling and the old couple living in there still lived normally despite the war.

When Carl's avatar came inside the house, the old man got up on his seat and started yelling at him, walking closer. The Non-Playable Character stopped when Zurra's avatar showed her crowbar.

"Hey! We're not going to kill them, are we? They're just old people. I thought we'll grab the stuff and just zip it."

"Sorry." She winced. "It was reflex. I got spooked when he got close."

The NPC however, didn't start attacking them. Instead the old man shouted to his wife and the two ran upstairs and cowered at a corner. Carl sighed in relief, and hesitantly approached the room where the old couple were crouching in, hoping they won't jump and pull out a shotgun or something. His avatar riffled through the medical cabinet and grabbed everything except for the pills which was useless 'cause they had 12 of those back at the shelter.

Then the NPC begged their avatars not to take his wife's medicine because she's very sick.

Carl looked at Zurra.

"…We only need the bandages. One really."

Carl dropped the medicines back in the cabinet.

The NPCs still had their backs turned, still begged for them not to take their meds. Carl shifted uncomfortably and his avatar ran downstairs to the living room. They ended the night shortly after looting some more Private Properties that gave them canned food and vegetables which are so hard to come by. The screen went black when they got out into the streets.

"Um." Zurra pursed her lips, a little annoyed at the LOADING blinking at them. "Maybe stealing at that Quiet House was a bad call."

"This game has moral penalties." Carl stated. "Imitating real life civilians."

"We're already Depressed and Broken. What's next? Devastated? We'll move even slower."

What greeted them was a picture of Carl's avatar in black and white, eyes closed yet obviously tearful. There was a caption beneath telling them that the character had committed suicide.

"Uuuuuh."

"That's…" Zurra gently put the controller on her lap and dipped the last two crackers in cheese.

Carl let go of his controller too. He's not very enthusiastic to click the Continue.

Zurra swallowed in the silence. "…Wow…?"

"It's… shock—"

"ZURRA!"

"—king." Carl finished lamely. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Rhine."

"Carl!" Zurra's mom blinked in shock. If she's surprised, he doesn't understand why. He played games plenty of times with Zurra. Her horrified expression was downright confusing. "Oh my God, Carl, you have to go home."

"Uh, sorry. Did I come at a bad time?"

"Yes." "No." The two adults shared glances with each other before Zurra's dad continued. "Look, son, things are getting very bad. We'll drop you off to your Mom. She must be worried sick at your home."

"Why? Did something happen to Mom?"

"No! No, by God, I hope not. Zurra, pack your things in your bags. Anything important, food and water, and-and, just bring everything you'll need for a camping trip. Carl, you've been in camping trips right? Please help her. And you pack some stuff too. We'll explain later, please hurry kids," they left leaving the two children confused.

"What do you think happened?" Zurra's voice was a little shrill, but her hands were steady as they pleased, emptiying her school backpack. She has a lot of bags but her school backpack was the largest.

"Probably the jail break that happened earlier."

"WHAT?!" Zurra shouted. "Why didn't you say so?!"

"Zurra?! What happened?!" Her mom came back upstairs, stuffing some meds inside a bag.

"Carl said there's a prison break this morning!"

"No—Yes!" She nodded frantically. "Bad people. Very bad people. The police failed. They're coming. So we're leaving. Carl, we'll drive you to your house. Kids, hurry!"

They flinched in fear but tried their best to get on with their task quickly. "Carl?"

"Uh, canned food, we'll get those from your kitchen later. Water bottles too. Phone? Charger?" Carl opened the box where she kept stock of batteries and

"Got 'em," she stuffed them in the front pocket. Standing up quickly as she remembered her earphones and put them in the bag too.

"Tissues. Oils. Make-up if you need them. Oh, don't forget your money!" Carl left behind his own books. They're just heavy and useless in this situation. He kept his favorite graphic novels and binder notes though. They're way too precious!

Zurra stacked her tissues in the bottom corner of the bag. She didn't mind Carl picking a couple of them. A bottle of white wood oil for aches and a lotion and her hair bands. Oh, and hair combs! She stuff in her flat ones. She has a lot of perfumes she rarely uses and mostly bought because they have pretty Disney princess covers but if she has to pick one it's going to be Mulan. Uuuuuh, money. She has them all stacked neatly inside a box with little things she had sentimental value hidden but who cares if Carl knows where she hides it, it doesn't effing matter now! "What else, what else? Essentials? Jeez, didn't we just play this type of game?! Components, parts, weapons—"

"We don't know how to use those in real life, Ra!" Carl snapped.

"KIDS HURRY!"

"Yes, Mom!"

"A hat and fan in case it's too hot outside and clothes, Ra! I'll get the bathroom stuff!" She didn't care if they're trashing her room at this point.

"Carl?!" She yelped when he dropped a scissors in her hands, her plain black ones in his.

"You said weapons, right? They're sharp!" Carl's laugh was sorely inappropriate at the moment. "Do you have a flashlight to spare?"

Her eyes widened and she dashed to her shelves. "No, sorry. Only one."

"It's fine. I'll get one in my house. Or Mom probably already packed. Oh, shit!"

"You swore!"

"Whatever!" Carl fished out his phone and turned off the airplane mode he had switched on to preserve battery life. He threw it on the bed to wait for the notifications piling up. "What else do we need."

"Firewood?" She suggested hysterically, dashing to get her ratty old rabbit doll that had been with her since her birth day.

"Match sticks!"

"I'll give you my lighter!" Her keeping the ten boxes of match sticks need not be said. It might seem unfair but Carl knows she's just a little scared of using the lighter. "Let's get Mama's coffee packs and Papa's cigarettes!"

"Huh? For what?"

"Like in the game! People will be desperate for those and they'll be valuable to trade."

"Uh, Ra, this is just an emergency trip to get away from those prisoners. We're not at a war-ridden apocalyptic world."

"At least prepare for the worst?" She said, clearly embarrassed. She cleared her throat. "What else, anyway?"

"Kids, are you ready?" Zurra's mom came upstairs and they quickly hoisted their backpacks. Carl remembered to pick up his phone and skateboard. "Carl," she spoke a little bit uncertainly but shook her head quickly. "Here," she gave him a couple of canned food. "Let's go, kids, there's no time left."

They followed her downstairs. As the woman zipped up all the bags she put on the mat, the two dashed into the kitchen. Sure enough, all the cabinets were near-empty, but the coffee packs were still there. Zurra picked it up. "Ugh, too heavy." She only stuffed about ten maybe twelve packs while Carl stuffed the rest. They found two packs of cigarettes on the counter and picked one each. Opening the fridge they only found one water bottle. Carl let her have it. He picked up the small pudding instead. Zurra glared but he just gave her a smug grin.

They got in the car. Carl gave into her brooding and shared the pudding with her. He sent a quick  _on the way with Zurra Mom_ before switching back to airplane mode.

"Carl?"

"Huh? Yes, Mrs. Rhine?"

"Stay with your parents okay. It's going to be very dangerous from here on out."

"I get it."

Mrs. Rhine looked sorrowful but didn't say anything else. They arrived at Carl's home and was greeted with a hysterical Lori and Shane.

"Mom? Uncle Shane?"

"CARL!" Lori dropped the bag of clothes and hugged her son desperately. The boy managed to hold his skateboard far enough from his mother's head. "Thank God, you're back. Sweetie, sweetie, listen to me. We have to go. Grab your things quickly. There's no time to explain."

"CARL!"

He turned around, and instinctively caught the small thing Zurra threw at him from her open window car. It's her Nala action figure. "SEE YOU LATER!" She shouted as her car sped away from the neighbourhood.

Maybe in a few days or years like Simba, but he hoped so too. Carl ran into the house and opened his room. For a moment, it felt like another day of coming home from school and limping into bed for a quick nap before lunch but he got over that quickly. His eyes scanned the room feverishly, a small part of him thinking he'll never see this room again.

He picked up his Gameboy. Binders—one filled with blank papers and one for his sketches. His stash of stationary tools. The multi-tool he had only used once. Switchblade. His drawers were open. Mom had probably picked it through but Carl stuffed another shirt and boxers anyway. Chess. Oil. Bandages—shit, he forgot to tell that to Zurra. Hopefully her Mom had packed the Rhines some bandages. What else? What else? He has so many things and he could only carry so much.

"CARL! LET'S GO!"

Throwing his skateboard and guitar inside, Carl claimed the backseat and Shade drove away from the Grimes' house. He looked back pass the shotguns Shade put inside and watched as his house seems smaller and smaller. Looking back at the road, and ignoring the families hurriedly packing their stuffs too, Carl would have thought that this was just another day of going to school.

"Uncle Shane?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I heard that there's a jail break this afternoon. Mrs. Rhine said the police failed and now bad people are coming. What does she mean you failed?"

"It's a-it's-It's complicated." Shane tried to find the words. "Lori, you're his mother."

"I can't tell him. I can't."

"Mom?"

"Carl, news came out we're all leaving Atlanta. It's taken over. Military are putting up shelter at Fort Benning so we're heading there. Got it?"

"Wait, we're leaving first thing? W-What about Dad?"

"Oh, God, Shane."

"Carl…"

"Shane, please, I can't. I can't. I can't."

"Hospital's down, kid." Shane didn't turn around. He kept his eyes on the road, pretending Carl wasn't boring holes behind his head. "Rick is dead."

**Author's Note:**

> A comprehensive video essay of why the Beauty is the Beast is NOT about Stockholm Syndrome (because that syndrome is not even a thing to the officials)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syYCO0QVkZo
> 
> A comprehensive video essay so we can finally put to bed the mystery of why Disney's Hercules was kind of eh.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KznZcK7ksf4


End file.
